Make Me Feel Alive Again
by Livay
Summary: [Widowtracer], Slightly [Rocket Angel/Pharmercy], rated M for later Chapters. Tracer finds herself in a precarious situation but Widowmaker spares her life, the intimate confrontation between those two leaving traces on the short girl. Unable to accept her feelings towards the enemy, she struggles with her conscience.
1. Chapter 1

It had been awhile since she got hit by this kind of bullet. Tracer leant against a stonewall of an old building, blood dripping from her shoulder. Unfortunately her accelerator was out of energy and she had to bear the pain. _Bloody hell, I should've listened to Winston..._ But she didn't and now she was far away from the other Overwatchagents right in Talon's territory. She had wanted to distract their opponents and buy time for her friends. Now all she could do was hide and hope her comrades would do fine without her. Controlling her heavy breaths the British girl was able to hear a feminine voice just around the corner

" _Bonsoir Cinglé_ , I heard your favorite monkey was seen two blocks away from here."

and then a nasty laughter fading into the distance. Sighing in relief Tracer's jaw relaxed. Not for long. Due to the sound of approaching steps the short girl hold her breath again. She had heard these kind of steps many times before.

" 'ello, _Cherié_ " Widowmaker said while walking around the corner.

Her curves embraced by the moonlight, red spots glowing threateningly on her forehead. Effortlessly she kicked the Brit's guns out of her hands that she had raised to her defense. A light chuckle escaped the French's lips "Foolish girl..." the blue skinned assassin whispered putting one of her hands around the shorter woman's neck, pressing her body against the wall. "Looks like I've caught you..."

Tracer had various confrontations with the Talon's agent, who quickly became her rival. Usually they would fight until one side retreated, without any casualties. She had been hit by her rival's bullets a few times but never been unable to go back in time. And she had interfered and averted the sniper's missions just as often forcing her to retreat. It was a game of Hide and Seek. A game of Life and Death. Over and over again.

Struggling to escape she gritted her teeth in pain. To her surprise the Assassin loosened her grip. The visor opened and golden eyes stared into her light brown ones. Usually she would've said something cocky to annoy her opponent but this time Lena knew that she was at the brink of death. She had to play time until her chronal accelerator was charged again. Lost in thought the boyish girl noticed too late the blue hand approaching her bullet wound. A striking pain rushed through her body and she silently screamed as fingers entered her flesh.

"No, no... Please..."

" _Silencieux_."

It felt like an eternity until the torture had ended

"There you are..." Widowmaker whispered in her french accent.

Tracer's cloth tainted in red, sweat covering her face, she almost fainted. Only the grip of her nemesis kept her on two feet.

"D... Do you hate me so much?" she coughed faintly. "I thought we had a good time."

A weak smile illuminated by the flashing light of the time device formed on her lips. Was this really her end?

"Do you think so...?" An amused voice answered her.

Again, a sting in her shoulder as her torturer pressed on the wound. It was less painful this time though. Maybe her brain cancelled all the input already. At least she felt like she couldn't handle any more.

"Are you angry that you only hit my shoulder...?" A pain distorted smile appearing again.

Only a musing "Mhmm..." escaped the snipers throat while she was still fiddling with the Brit's shoulder. Tracer hadn't noticed that the grip on her neck was gone for a while now. Just when her sight became less blurry and she could see the flagging of the street she realized. The Sniper having a firm grip on her unharmed shoulder watched her closely. Tracer looked up.

"Did you finish already? Well... Actually I wasn't in pain anymore fo-"

"I _am_ angry." the French interrupted her, lifting the brunette's chin with her free hand. The delicate face with the perfectly formed light purple lips appearing well-lit in front of her. Surprised by the interruption the girl looked into captivating golden eyes again which were watching her very facial expression closely with amusement.

Finally the Agent stopped the intense look. Leaning in she whispered into the brunette's ear. "Don't let yourself get killed by such a _Cinglé_." Lips softly touching the earlobe. " _I_ am the only one who is allowed..." she paused, obviously enjoying the reaction of her prey who's body had become stiff "...to kill you."

Feeling a smile forming at her ear and the tall woman's soft body pressing against hers she held her breath. Just a moment ago she was terrified, groaning with pain as the other woman had played with her like a cat with her prey. But the pain was faint now and the touch gentle. Before, every inch of her body wanted to run as far as possible, now, she couldn't move a centimeter. She didn't want to. The sweet scent of perfume hovering in the air and the enchanting french accent echoing in her ear were disarming. Her mind went blank and her heart was racing. Unable to comprehend the reaction of her body the British girl stood there, back pressed against a cold wall, a soft body warming her front, black hair tickling her nose. She could've stood like this for much longer if it hadn't been for an explosion in the distance making the French pulling away and giving the time jumper a once over.

"Looks like our playtime's over again." she smirked and turned away.

" _Adieu Chérie!"_

* * *

"Who fixed you up?" Mercy asked surprised. "I didn't remember you paying attention in my first aid lesson."

"Ah, well..." Tracer blushed, trying to skip the answer. "But does it matter? I mean, how did you escape the explosion?"

"It was a decoy." a deep voice answered. "We didn't hear from you for a while and aborted the mission. Figured you could be stuck somewhere." Her fuzzy friend mumbled while chewing on a banana.

"Aw~, Thank you, big guy! I Ow' ya!" A brought smile across her face, Tracer rushed forward to hug him.

"Anyway we will have to get the resources out of there soon. God knows how long it will take Talon to find the abandoned outpost there." The Egyptian, who had been patched up by Mercy as well, urged. The doctor gently rested her hand on the soldier's arm.

"Fareeha, _Liebes_. Don't rush. You've caught enough bullets for a while. Please rest a while." In a faint voice she added "I was worried..." locking eyes with her patient who then couldn't hide the red on her cheeks.

"So, that said... Mission postponed for now. It's late too. We should go home and rest." Winston exclaimed.

"Uuawaaahh..." Lena yawned excessively with a smile following. "Have good night, luvs!" she added, blinking out of the temporary base, heading to her hotel room.

* * *

A/N:

I don't know french. Correct me please

 _Bonsoir = Good evening  
Cinglé = Freak (Crazy guy)  
Silencieux = Quiet_

 _Fareeha, Liebes = Fareeha, love_


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks had passed when the Overwatchagents and their allies finally restored the goods from the abandoned base amidst Talon's territory. It went better than anticipated with the assistance of the Shimada brothers. The only thing Tracer could think about though, was the relief not to have met the woman who, strangely, had spared her life after she finally had the chance to take it. She even patched her up! The memories of this specific night had haunted her every day since then.

"I mean, it doesn't make sense, does it?" she talked to herself, lying in bed.

It plainly didn't. But moreover she couldn't understand herself. Reimagining the breathes on her neck, the soft lips vibrating on her earlobe with every word the French had said, the warmth and touch of her body pressed against her own, Lena's heart was about to explode of excitement. Excitement she couldn't comprehend. She had always enjoyed her life and enjoyed working for Overwatch, turning the world into a better one. She enjoyed playing board games with her comrades, no, friends. She also enjoyed terrorizing her rival in every mission they crossed ways. But cornered and technically sentenced to death she got excited over... over what? What was it that took her breath away? Why would being close to the woman who had killed Mondatta, one of her biggest inspirations, and many other innocents make her nervous? Nervous in a positive way.

She sighed facing her clock. _8pm, huh..._

* * *

"GG, Easy!"

The play of the game was on TV, highlighted by the groans of five people dying.

"Ohhh yeah, this is my jam!"

Lucío gave Hana a high five.

"Seems like we won again!" the Brazilian grinned.

Lena slumped down in defeat.

"Stop or you'll get wrinkles!" the blonde healer chuckled as she put a finger on Fareeha's forehead. The Egyptian unable to admit defeat.

"Our Bots were not as coordinated as theirs." She said with a stern face.

"I'm sure of it." the angelic woman answered smiling at her affectionately.

Lena caught sight of the sweet moment those two had. Fareeha looked down trying to hide her burning cheeks while Mercy chuckled over the reaction. _They match perfectly..._ she thought. Not only in battle, as a team, fighting alongside each other. Taking care of one another. But also here. Off duty. They never said anything, Lena didn't even know if they knew but everyone else knew about the feelings the Rocket Angel Duo had for each other.

Why couldn't she find someone who would make her cheeks burn up like this while gently stroking her hair. Someone who would risk their life for her. Not like their friends wouldn't do this already but... Someone who would go through hell to stay with her.

An arm smacking on her shoulder took her back to reality.

"Up for another round? We better go fast!" The tanned musician offered himself as her new teammate.

"Sure, keep calm and tracer on!"

* * *

Another mission. Another game. She blinked between the buildings, carefully avoiding the red laser pointer originating from the church tower. Finally reaching the snipers hideout without any incidents, she could spot the red spider eyes jump to a near rooftop. _Got'cha!_

Rushing upstairs by foot saving her energy she arrived the top.

"Step into my parlor..." the familiar voice echoed.

"... Said the Spider to the fly." Tracer finished quietly, looking around, searching for the alluring figure that had haunted her in her dreams for a long time. The rooftop had various hiding spots. Cautiously the Brit turned around the corners.

"I can see you..." a hushed tone melodically reached her ears.

 _I know._ Tracer thought, recognizing the direction of the voice and immediately recalled.

"What'cha looking at?" She giggled when she reappeared right beside the sniper.

It resembled a dance. Bullets rained into various directions as the time jumper blinked around her target, evading the rifle shots and firing back at the same time. Rooftop to rooftop they continued their game of tag. Grinning widely Tracer chuckled at her opponent.

"You can't keep up, luv? Is your ammunition running out already?"

"Running won't free you from my web, _petite_."

"Then I'll just attack! Ha!"

The Brit blinked against the woman, pinning her down, the rifle sliding to the edge of the building.

"You've got a time out!" the agile girl exclaimed cheerfully, a broad grin on her face, her pistol aiming at the spider's head. "Looks like I've caught _you_!" She winked.

The French chuckled in her low voice. "Such a sweet girl... but so foolish." she slowly raised her hand, gently embracing the brunette's which was holding the pistol. "Do you really think you can kill me?"

The grin disappeared and confusion took its place. She hadn't thought about that part yet. The next step was getting rid of the sniper once and for all. Saving many innocent lives and striking a blow to Talon's army. Winning the game they've played for months.

Her pistol was leaning on the French's cheeks. Then it slowly slid down her neck, passing her collarbone. The metal moved smoothly over flawless skin. Down into her cleavage. In between two sweetly curved mounds it stopped. Lena had followed the movement with her eyes as the widow herself navigated the weapon across her body. As a reaction to the helpless gulp the short girl unknowingly did, an arrogant but simultaneously arousing chuckle left the French's thorax. "You can't." She whispered with a smirk, staring into the Brit's eyes. "And you won't... _jamais_." she added, grabbing Tracer's collar, pulling it down to her face.

What happened then was beyond her imagination. Full purple lips connecting to her sweet pinks. The warmth and softness of the touch sending millions of signals to her brain in a split second. She could hear the blood rushing in her ear. Eyes wide open at first, hovering between shock and pleasure, then closing, giving in to the sweet taste and sensation that built up in her chest. Fighting against the foreign feeling that was longing for more while relishing every single second of it. It felt like an eternity until their lips parted slightly and french words kissed her good night " _dors bien, cavalier de temps._ ".

A little sting in her neck. Everything turning black. Her body flagging.

* * *

 _petite = small one_ _jamai = never  
dors bien = sleep well  
cavalier de temps = time jumper_


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up in a pub was a first for her. Apparently she had slept on a bench but must've fallen down at some point. Her body was _aching_. As a consequence the walk back to the base was exhausting. Finally there, entering the lobby, her comrades rushed towards her.

"There you are!" they called out, embracing her one after another.

"We were worried sick. Where were you?" Angela asked, visibly relieved to see the Brit, examining her, searching for wounds.

"I'm okay... No need to worry!"

"So...?" they urged her full of expectation. Lena narrowed her eyebrows apologetically.

"You don't know where you were?" The tanned soldier woman asked from the back.

That certainly wasn't what kept her from talking about last night's events. "I got lost a bit and stayed in a pub over night, hahaha" maybe smiling would put them at ease. "Please don't worry, luvs! I'm A-okay! Just my back is _aching._ I'll happily sleep in my bed tonight." she giggled.

Not entirely convinced, trying to dig deeper, the doctor was interrupted by her russian comrade. "Now come here, _yezhik._ I hope you didn't forget our promise!" hugged by her giant friend the brunette giggled even more. "Yes, I'm sorry luv! We will work out tomorrow, a'right?"

"You better wake up early then. And Reinhardt! You still have to arm-wrestle me!"

* * *

It must've been a dream. There was no other explanation. But then again, why would she dream about her? And especially why would she dream about _kissing_ her? Whatever happened, if it had happened, it made no sense. Why would the cold hearted, emotionless number one assassin from Talon, a terror organization, be interested in her? Was she even interested or did she just kiss her for fun? Did someone with no emotions have fun? What is your purpose in life if you can't feel anything anyway? What makes her kill people? Why would she listen to Talon's orders? What is it that she desires? Everyone has a dream, an aim in life. What was hers?

 _And why won't I stop thinking about her?_

Lena groaned. A week had past already and no answers were found. She hadn't known Amélie Lacroix before she became Widowmaker but she had done a lot of research. 33 years old, formerly married to Gérard Lacroix, an Overwatch agent. Was kidnapped and apparently brainwashed by Talon. Two weeks after her 'rescue' she assassinated her husband and went back to the terror organization, claiming her Nickname which reveals her deed. Due to records she had been victim to various experiments, lowering her heart rate, getting rid of her emotions, erasing her memories. She became the perfect assassin. 97 recorded assassinations since her alteration.

A knock on the door. "Y-yeah?" the short girl replied startled.

"It's me. You wanted to talk to me?" Angela entered her room.

"Ah, yes! Please take a seat, luv, I err... Have a few questions..." the brunette rubbed the back of her head. The woman sat down in front of her looking at her in curiosity .

"You knew Gérard Lacroix, right?" The blonde nodded. "Aand... His wife, Amélie?" A slighter nod. "What was she like? How did she end up... You know."

The swiss woman raised her eyebrows, surprised about the question, thought for a while and then cleared her throat.

"Well... She was a beautiful, elegant woman, caring and exceptionally smart. Gérard and Amélie were a couple before he joined Overwatch. He would always boast about her beauty and intellect. He had a high position in Overwatch's department for terrorist control and therefore a lot of confrontations with Talon, becoming their greatest threat. He survived many attempts of assassinations until his wife... no. Until Widowmaker killed him in his sleep."

She paused for a while, looking at the floor, gathering her thoughts. Upon seeing the still curious expression on the brunette's face, she then continued.

"I've only met her twice. Usually she didn't take part in Overwatch affaires but her intellect and kindness saved many lives. She was an incredible woman, supporting her husband's work and even risking her own life for that of many others. Because she took part in two missions, Talon got to know about her. And about her relationship to Gérard. What happened then is written in the records that I suppose you have read?"

"Yeah, right. But I'm curious if..." she nervously rubbed the back of her head again, ruffling through her hair. "... Is it possible that Amélie is still in there?"

The blonde's eyes formed a line. "Impossible."

"But why? What if she is? She _could_ get her emotions back, right?"

"Impossible!" Angela said louder, with more impact, startling the Brit. Sighing she stood up. "It's not possible. Even if we wanted to..." And walked to the window, gazing into the distance. The shorter girl watching her in anticipation.

"She killed 97 people, correct?"

"Yeah..." Lena replied quietly.

"Lena, _Liebes_ , what do you think will happen if Amélie returns, fully aware of the events of the past six years?"

Silence. She hadn't thought that far. But Angela was right, it was impossible unless they wanted her to suffer the rest of her life. Knowing how you killed innocent people and on top of that, your own beloved husband. What a cruel way to live.

Still... She had to find answers.

"So, Amélie is gone... Forever?"

"Yes."

"And there is no possibility of her... I mean, Widowmaker, to regain feelings?"

"There is only one feeling she is noted for having. Satisfaction after a kill."

Lena narrowed her brows.

"Thanks, Ange." she said quietly.

The elder woman looked at her apologetically.

"I know how you feel."

Did she?

"It is strange to fight someone who used to be one of the kindest people in the world. I know you and Widowmaker had a lot of confrontations. We thought it would be better not to tell you about her back story. But we also knew that you would find out eventually."

The blonde put an arm on her shoulder squeezing it.

"Lena, you are an altruistic do-gooder and I feel your determination, but keep in mind. Amélie is gone. What is left of her, is an empty shell. There is nothing left to save. She might look like Amélie but she isn't. She doesn't even have a free will. She is nothing but a murderer."

Her face darkened. She was obviously uncomfortable talking about this subject any more. She walked to the door, turning around one more time before she left.

"Next time you have the chance to kill her... Do it. It will save many innocent lives."

* * *

 _Lena, Liebes = Lena, love  
_

 _A/N: Sorry this chapter was necessary for the plot (kind of, I guess - actually I don't know what I'm doing). Next one will have some widowtracer again.  
_

 _Also I changed the title. That's because I had no idea what to name it first and this is a better one. I suppose. I hope so. :'D I barely proofread my story so if you find something disturbingly wrong or strange, please leave it in the review. I'll happily change it._

 _I have almost no time, 'cause I have to work but I'll try to update every 3 days. The chapters are short, i know, but I need around 6h for this. Really, writing in english is SO hard for me. Maybe I'll write the story in german too for all the german fans._

 _Anyways! Thanks for reading my story and for leaving reviews! I'm always happy to see the traffic graph go up :_


	4. Chapter 4

Heat filled her lungs as she breathed in the ash filled air. Her ears had gone deaf, her accelerator's lights were out and her feet were burning in pain. She was running, running endlessly as the walls came tumbling down on her. The huge building that once was a factory for prostheses was burning down, collapsing and Tracer in the midst of it. With a weak smile she was counting how often she had escaped death by now. _11... 12...WAHOOO, close one. 13! ... How big is this bloody factory?!_ And a jump. Left. Right. Right. It didn't seem to end. The light of her time device flickering again. Soon she could use her time jump again. _Shoot!_ The Brit rolling to the side as a breaking pillar almost hit her. _Now,_ that _was close!_ she grinned to herself as she kept on running towards an exit, not far away. One step after another. Careful not to stumble due to the numb limbs of hers. Daylight breaking through the ceiling as the exit drew closer. _Daylight?_

A heavy blow to her back took her breath away. Blue waves of light teleporting her to the streets, away from the collapsing factory grounds. Her body crashing against a lamp post. Her sight was blurry, heat waves, emitting from the explosions in front of her, stroking her skin. She was panting for air, unable to satisfy the request for oxygen, her back aching, as her mind went blank and her sight turned black.

"Huagh!" Her body sprung up, her lungs grasping for air. She immediately regretted the sudden movement as pain ran through her limbs, chest and finally struck her brain, shooting her back down on the ground, that felt unexpectedly soft. Her body frozen, fearing another rush of pain, her eyes darted through the room.

It was a regular apartment. A TV, table, chairs, a clock and a lot of pretty old fashioned furniture. Yes, it was regular indeed. Except for the broken glasses scattered on the ground below a broken window.

"Errr...aa.." she coughed, resulting in another painful sting in her chest "Ugh! ... Bloody hell, that HURTS!" she shouted surprisingly loud. Embarrassed she cleared her throat. "Well, err... Hello~? ... Anybody here~? ... I can't move anyway, so you are save to come out~!" Her eyes wandering from one side of the room to the other. "I promise, I won't bite... apropos, I could really use some bite, I'm _starving_."

Silence. Tracer groaned in surrender, throwing her head back on the couch, her eyes closed, when a sweet bun was put in her open mouth. She opened her eyes in surprise, mumbling "thanmkhs, luff!" when she tilted her head to see her savior.

Her body froze, the bun falling out of her mouth as soon as she recognized the long, slender legs dressed in that incredibly tight armor, highlighting the feminine curves, and the unique blue tinted skin that the cloth were generously revealing, as well as the long black ponytail, swaying as she walked passed her.

Mouth open, the Brit didn't dare to breath. What was _she_ doing here?  
The French turned around sitting down on the armchair in front of her, gracefully putting one leg over the other. Golden eyes staring down at her.

"That's better..." her accent sounded visibly. One arm reached over to the brunette's face, grabbing the bun beside it. After tearing off a piece of it, she put it back into her rival's mouth.

It was an awkward moment. Getting fed by the most dangerous assassin Talon could muster, peacefully resting in an unknown apartment. She had already been confused after their recent encounters but this was the least she had expected their next meeting would be like.

When the last piece of bun had disappeared into her mouth, the sniper leant back intensely staring at her again.

"Er... I'm.. A bit thirsty... now?" The wounded Brit said carefully.

To her surprise the woman stood up, elegantly walking towards the fridge that was placed in the back of the room. She returned with a glass of milk, in it a blue straw. The Brit looked up at her in disbelief as the French sat down beside her and hold it in front of her face.

"That's... quiet obliging..." she said while raising her head, trying to catch the straw with her lips. She drank it in one go and put her head back as soon as she had finished. Breathing heavily she closed her eyes. The pain wasn't too bad but interminable.

"How do I get off this... Thing." Widowmaker asked after a while, eyeing at her accelerator.

"I prefer it to stay where it is." the Brit laughed weakly.

" _fille stupide_ , just tell me how to get it off _ou voulez-vous mourir, imbécile_." she said more demanding.

"That just sounded like you were insulting me really badly." she grinned cheekily.

Not amused the tall woman pulled out a knife threateningly placing it on top of the glowing machine that kept her anchored in time.

"Tell me how to remove or I'll just try..." she reprimanded her.

Swallowing nervously, unable to fight or run, she carefully raised one of her hands in defeat.

"Wou wou! Carefully. I didn't know you were so eager to strip me down." Lena chuckled lightly, trying to conceal her nervousness.

"Well, I prefer not to take it off entirely, just as I said, but you are mostly referring to the armor, right?" She said while slowly opening the tricky fastener.

...

After a while the harness that kept her device from harm and the part of it that made it possible to control her own time flow were removed. Left was the core that was essential for her to stay in the current time dimension, the actual anchor. It was just a small piece of glowing something integrated in her ribcage. She didn't know the science behind it, she was no scientist after all, but she never left a save place like this. She only ever took its armor off when she was sleeping somewhere safe or wanted to take a shower. Anxious to get lost in time again, fear dictated her life. Only this machine could bring her peace. And now it's fragile core was exposed.

Regardless she felt strangely comfortable and safe. If she wanted her dead she would've killed her long ago. In fact she had spared her life twice now.

"So... What'cha lookin' at?"

The French carefully removed the leather jacket, leaving her in her pants and a sports bra. A slight grin formed on her purple lips.

"An annoyance..." her fingertips trailing across the tomboy's bare arms. " _tant de taches de rousseur.._." she whispered to herself, then started caressing her stomach, exploring the ups and downs of her abs, the skin tingling from her touch. At some points she raised the pressure, resulting in a weak groan on the part of the younger woman and a squinting of her eyes. The assassin watched her reactions intensely, visibly amused by it. Playfully she circled across the exposed skin, sending pleasant shivers through Lena's body.

Despite the perturbing pain and the inability to move freely she enjoyed the strangely intimate moment. She knew she was her enemy and she knew that this was not a good time to relax but what else could she do? Her life was in the sniper's hands and she didn't seem to intend to harm her. Actually she was taking care of her pretty... attentive.

Suddenly the grip on her left arm tightened and _broke her bones_. A silent scream left her lips, obviously too surprised by the sudden pain. Then fingers pressed under her ribcage and another sound of cracking bones followed. This time she did scream audibly

"AHH! For Christ's sake, what are you doi- aaAh! -ing."

"What did you think I was taking your cloth off for...?" She raised an eyebrow, pleasure hidden in her eyes.

" _Je ne sais pas où elle est. L'ensemble du bâtiment est écrasé._ _Elle est probablement mort... Oui... Oui..._ Understood, I'll be there in three."

Widowmaker's voice didn't give away what she was talking about, the same emotionless tone, just talking business. Lena recognized the furniture as her overly sensitive eyes scanned her surroundings once more. She was still in that utterly ordinary apartment and the sniper was still with her. Why did she lose consciousness a second time? How many hours had passed? Or maybe days? And why the hell did that blue woman bring her here in the first place?

" _Bonjour, Chérie_." Her train of thoughts came to an end when the Widow addressed her with that nickname once again.

"Er... Heya!" Lena replied, still confused by the situation she found herself in.

"Good. You can talk. And obviously move." Her kidnapper raised an eyebrow at the Brit's attempt to sit up, which worked out pretty well, surprisingly. She was patched up by the assassin, _again_. She even dressed her in some flannel shirt. Her stomach was hurting and one of her arms was fixed to her chest, laying in a noose. _Huh, broken, eh?_ Suddenly images rushed through her head, a painful sounding crack as she remembered the events that had taken place before.

"Oi! You broke my bones!" The words shot out violently, causing Tracer to cringe due to the pain it caused.

" _Oui_. It was my pleasure." Her french opponent answered flatly while putting a bunch of tools and supplies in a small bag.

"Yeah, I could see that... I s'ppose you had another intention aside from the entertainment it brought you?" The short girl raised her eyebrows in anticipation. But the sniper didn't reply immediately, busy with tidying up the place.

Lena watched her every move, elegantly walking through the apartment, carefully removing every fingerprint she might have left. Just now she noticed the bucket full of bloodstained towels and bandages. She really fixed her up, didn't she? She was really saving her incautious butt. She remembered now. The explosion, the crumbling ceiling and the pain when something had hit her. But she couldn't remember how she had come here or why Talon's most successful agent was with her. There were still so many unanswered questions yet she knew something for sure. Whatever the reason, the assassin didn't want to see her dead. Or at least she didn't want her dying from anything else except her own bullet. That was what she had said a few weeks ago. She, Widowmaker, 97 registered eliminations, 95 of them died from a bullet straight through their head. She, who had engaged in a violent dance of bullets every time they had an encounter. She, who was now swinging her hip in front of the Brit in that ridiculous skintight armor, leaving not much to the imagination. Somehow she ended up staring at the curves of the French beauty and, wow, she really had a nice body and that silk like hair, so long it extended to her shapely behind, and those legs, not to mention the fine jaw line and murderous, cold, golden eyes...

Tracer blinked in surprise when said eyes stared down at her, obviously knowing where her own had wandered off to in the last two minutes.

"We have to go" the sniper explained, noticing the slight blush on the smaller girl's cheeks but ignoring it.

Lena felt the heat shooting in her face. _Shoot, you gay trash, she is a murderer!_

"O-okay, luv. Where do we go?"

"Somewhere else. If you do anything stupid I will strangle you with your own guts and feed your intestines to some stray dogs, _compris_?"

That was a rather unpleasant thought but she didn't intend to do anything, so she was safe, wasn't she? What could she do in her condition anyway? Therefore she nodded, swallowing down the anxiety.

Widowmaker picked up the bag and Tracer's harness and left, just to return shortly after to pick up the wounded girl.

"H-hey, I can walk myself!"

She couldn't, but somehow she felt uncomfortable being carried bridal style to the car that was parked outside. The sniper's touch had felt warm when they met the last times, outside, in rainy, cool London, but here the weather was warm and pleasant and the blue skin suddenly felt cold, so cold it send shivers through Lena's body. Her head was becoming heavy though and giving up her inner struggle, she leaned it on her carrier's shoulder. She was exhausted.

What she didn't know was, how her warm breath against the cool skin felt and how much the assassin struggled to ignore her slightly quickened heartbeat that originated from the tingling hair caressing the French's neck.

The door closed and Lena fell fast asleep as the engine started and the car took them to an unknown place.


End file.
